Hear the Cry of Youth
by Seer of Tune
Summary: "He seemed to observe her for a moment, then whispered one word. A word that Sally could neither make out nor understand." An alternative storyline in which Scaramouche is our protagonist. There will be changes in the plot and some to the universe itself, too. Rated T for language, and some adult themes. Eventual Scaramouche/Galileo.
1. Prologue

**Prologue - Can Anybody Find Me?**

Sally didn't like her life.

Now, she wouldn't say she wanted to die- she just wanted it to get better. To her, the world felt like a puzzle, and she was the piece that had been snatched out, chewed up until she was disfigured, and then left to try and fail to fit back into where she had once been. This must have happened to her at a very young age, because she couldn't remember ever fitting in with the others. Since the day her brain was developed enough to contain memories, she had been on the outskirts, and was pushed out every time she tried to get into whatever was on the other side of the blockade that kept her there, no matter how much she kicked and screamed.

Maybe she was never meant to fit in. In the end, she had concluded that it was only herself to blame for all of this. Time after time, she had moved from place to place, foster family to foster family, and each time, she would cause a riot, make no friends, annoy her family to no end and get sent back to where she came from, only to be shipped off somewhere else. It was like she was the opposite of a magnet. All she ever did was repel people, no matter where she went, and she'd end up having to scarper when the bullying and the scorn and the hatred became too much for her again. She was sick of it. If this didn't end soon, maybe she really _would_ want to die.

But that didn't stop her from being herself. Sally was a fighter. If the world wouldn't take her the way she was, they weren't going to take her any other way, the spoilt and ungrateful bastards. They could shove it where the sun didn't shine if they didn't like her clothes, her hair, her makeup, et cetera; even more so if they took the piss, because she hated it all, too. They couldn't win. More than once, she had given the more rude ones a piece of her mind. Thirteen-year-old Sally had been kicked out of a home for screaming in the face of her bitch of a foster sister when the six-year-old terror had been nasty about the clothes she was wearing to school that day. She still remembered the foul language and insults that had burst out of her that day, how relieving it had been to see the girl's face warp and redden as the little brat was pushed to tears, and how she had been dragged away by her arms to stop her from going any further than screaming.

Oh, but that wasn't the only time she had done that, or the only thing that made her life a misery. No, there was also school. Sally was a smart girl, and her grades reflected that. That didn't help, though, when she was being pushed from pillar to post, school to school, either due to a change of location, or severe bullying which meant that she would have to go elsewhere to escape it. In rare cases, she would be expelled; that had only happened three times in her life, and two of them had been for going a bit too far with standing up for herself. Once, she had beaten some dickhead into a pulp for trying to rip up her horrific black clothes (while she was still wearing them, the pervert!), and the other time, she had broken a girl's arm for trying to pull her extensions out. Her third experience with being banned from school was for destroying school property, also known as the bathroom mirror on one of her particularly self-loathing days.

All of this made Sally sound like a violent girl. She wasn't, not really. It was a case of having an explosive temper, and no one there for her to ground her and calm her down. Instead, she had to cope with it, all on her own. As such, she had found that the best way to release her fury quickly was to go to the extremes- breaking things, hurting people, that sort of thing. No wonder she was such a fucking loner. She needed help, but it was where to get it that proved to be a challenge. She couldn't make friends, she found it so difficult, and beneath the feisty attitude and the snark and the mean words, she was lonely. Lonely, frightened of being on her own for the rest of her life, and a lost soul that just wanted to cry.

Just wanted life to get better.

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Hello there! This prologue didn't really provide any plot, I know, but I just wanted to start off by getting into the mindset of Scaramouche in this alternative plot universe, even though it's pretty much the same as what I personally took from her in the canonverse. I guess this in itself could stand for a one-shot, but it will be continued! As I type this, chapter two is well under way, so keep an eye out for the next one, folks._ _Chapter one will be longer, I promise. __Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter I

**Chapter One - Somebody**

Sally didn't know how to feel about moving into the city. It was certainly a new environment, and she liked to think that there were so many people there, no one would give a second glance at a single person. Maybe, with the amount of residents there would obviously be in a place like this, she would finally- _finally_\- find someone worth her time and effort. Not someone who would bring her down, although she would undoubtedly find others like that, too. It only had to be someone worthwhile. A boyfriend, she wasn't sure about, but she supposed that if love found her, she'd go with the flow. All she needed, whether it was in a romantic or friendly context, was for _anybody_ to find her somebody to love.

That wasn't going to be easy, she figured as she stepped off the school bus and took one look at her new vision of hell- Cyber High, the biggest GaGa school in the area. Many of the people who graduated here went on to climb the ranks of Globalsoft and work in high places, sometimes even for the Killer Queen herself. It was a large, looming brick building, and was the sort of place you'd find in the movies. There was everything, down to the beige concrete stairs leading up to the main doors, with many a student scattered outside and hanging around with friends, and the flagpole just outside, bearing the school's logo. Just another high school, she supposed. Now she was starting to make bets with herself (how sad was that?) on how long it would take for her to have to leave this place for good. Somehow, she couldn't wait.

This time, though, instead of making a scene with her entrance and attracting all the comments and laughter, she decided to try and make a better impression. Yes, her clothes were very extreme in the sense that she stuck out like a sore thumb, but if she did her best to keep a low profile and just do her own thing, maybe people wouldn't be so against her. After all, she might as well try it. At least she would be able to find out if it worked, and then, when she inevitably moved schools, she'd know what to do to impress people. Right?

"Here goes nothing," was her murmured pep talk. Deciding not to smile for fear of looking like a maniac, she simply did her best not to frown, kept her head held high, but not too high, and walked. Both eyes were fixed firmly on the doors. Any eye contact could ruin everything for her, and she would rather not be in a particularly bad mood on her first day here. School was bad enough.

Around her, she could hear whispers. Of course she could. Although she tried very hard to block out exactly what was being said, it wasn't hard to tell that people were talking about her- or was she just paranoid? Sally didn't know anymore. With the life she had lead so far, she wouldn't be surprised if they were already plotting ways to make her school days a misery. With the way she looked, they probably didn't even need to plan. Dressing the way she did, acting the way she acted, speaking the way she spoke- it all fuelled the fire and fanned the flames. No wonder she always got bullied out of schools. This just proved her point, the point that all of this hatred she attracted was all her fault.

_Oh, pull yourself together, bitch. Thinking like that, you'll only make your first day worse._

There were obvious reactions as Sally began to ascend the stairs, passing many a GaGa girl in the process. Sneers came from the braver ones, yet the bitchier ones turned their noses up in a conceited manner that made the teenage rebel want to slap the living daylights out of them. In a sense, she appreciated the ones that flinched and recoiled in fear; although it wasn't a friendly action, at least they didn't feel the need to show their fucking faces and rub it in that she was a pathetic, ugly little zero. Even the ones that just turned away and gossiped, while she wanted to wring their necks for being so rude, were less annoying than the ones who interacted with her directly.

Still, she kept her cool. She hadn't even been here for five minutes. God knew how badly this would go if she lost her shit already.

After a fair bit of wandering through almost identical corridors, and getting laughed at relentlessly, Sally found the classroom she was looking for. This would be her homeroom, and with less than five minutes until school began, she was glad that she came here relatively early. When left to her own devices, she would sleep for hours. It had been a pain in the ass to have to set an alarm and haul herself out of bed at an hour that was ungodly by her standards for a Monday morning, but at least she had been able to arrive on time, and not make herself look like more of a tosser by coming in late. While she waited, she looked over the posters on the walls; most of it was Globalsoft propaganda, but there was some things worth looking at to mentally ridicule, like an advertisement for Cyber High's Spring Dance. Ridiculous.

Soon enough, the bell rang, followed by a sickeningly synchronised cheer of, "Alright!" Sally simply slinked into the room and reserved herself a seat in the corner furthest away from the door. She sat down, fished her tablet out of her tattered bag, and logged in; while she waited for it to start up, she listened to the rumble of footsteps outside, as well as the buzz of almost identical voices to go with them. The sensation that overcame her was one of furious adrenaline. Somehow, her body wanted to do something vicious, but she didn't know what. If anything, she was probably going to smash her hands down on the desk in front of her and yell about how she was sick of a life of carbon copy after carbon copy of gender, personality, _human_ archetypes, and wanted them all to bugger off and leave her alone. But she held back.

Kids soon started flooding into the classroom, a group at a time. Naturally, that led to a lot of talk about the new girl who looked and acted like a freak. In time, there was a group of students in an arch around her table, who talked at her. There were so many things said that she couldn't comprehend it all, but she did know that she wanted them all to shut their lopsided mouths and mind their own damn business. Right now was not the time to talk to her. Waking up as early as she had to get here had left her grumpy enough, she didn't need this right now.

"Please, just leave me alone," Sally groaned quietly. Her tablet made a pinging noise, letting her know that she was online, and she occupied herself with scrolling through her emails. Nothing from friends, or family, or anyone. Only Globalsoft. There was the occasional read email from her past high schools, but once she had either pulled out or been expelled, the influx from them had stopped. Most of them had been deleted, anyway- she wanted the bad memories to stay behind her, far away, and to be forgotten about. Not like she could focus on any of that, however, because these GaGa kids wouldn't zip it.

"What are you wearing?" one of them questioned, her voice nasal and squeaky. It was like nails on a chalkboard. "It's, like, totally out of style!"  
The way she spoke made Sally cringe. It sounded so stupid, but before she could try once more to ask them all to be quiet, someone cut in again.  
"What about your hair? Did you put too much dye in it? You don't need that much dye for lilac. That shade of violet is really dark, it's gross!" The second girl made gagging noises.  
This time, a boy from the Boy Zone piped up. "You know, none of us boys are ever going to wanna cyberlove anyone who looks like you. I mean, your face is okay, but smothered in all that makeup, and when you're wearing rags-"

"Fuck off!" Sally snapped, slamming her fist onto the table. Yep. She had lost it, even though she told herself she wouldn't.  
An almost overly exaggerated and staged expression of hurt spread across their faces. "We were only trying to help-"  
"Well, I didn't _ask_ for it, did I? You're actually being ill-mannered old wazzocks- would you like me to give you some advice? Get some sense of individuality, shut those ungodly, deafeningly stupid mouths of yours and get the fuck out of my sight!"

The second girl sneered. "Well, that's just rude."  
Putting his arm around both girls, the Boy Zone boy spoke again. "Come on, www-dot-polly-at-the-marlows-dot-com," he said to the first girl, then turned to the second. "Come on, www-dot-vivian-at-the-sharps-dot-com. Let's leave this grumpy-bum alone."  
In synchronisation, all three stuck their tongues, and began giggling irritatingly. Sally just stuck up her middle finger, which showed off her chipped purple nail varnish. That seemed to fuel their laughter and they walked off to join their friends again.

Before anyone else could decide they wanted a piece of her, the teacher walked into the room. At this point, Sally switched off; she'd heard all of this before. Sometimes the teacher introduced her, sometimes they didn't, but in whatever case, everyone had already made their judgement, including him or her. The messages would all be the same, too, and everyone's reactions would be identical. Everyone would be excited for the Spring Dance, and for learning the newest GaGa Moves, and for seeing all of their friends, and Sally wanted no part in it. Instead, she turned back to her tablet, and pulled up her lesson notes. She created a blank page, and began to move her finger across the screen. It left blank lines in its path, and she began to doodle. Now, she was no artist, but trying to draw something decent passed the time, even if it did piss her off a little bit when it didn't go right.

All too soon, the bell rang for the first lesson of the day. Another synchronised cheer of "Alright!" was heard, and Sally began to wonder if that was what she was going to hear after every bell rang in this damn place. Honestly, she wouldn't be surprised, attending a school that was so highly ranked in GaGa culture. That was another reason why she had to_ try_ to behave- this place had very strict rules. If she went too far with her rebellious nature, she could get kicked out again. Not like she would care, but, well, she was getting tired of jumping from school to school. It was surprising that Cyber High had accepted her in the first place, and it would look good to have attended such a school when she inevitably had to get a job at Globalsoft at some point. Staying here had its benefits, even if it would be difficult. Well, she told herself, she only had the rest of this year and one more year to go, and then she was out of here. For good.

Her tablet was locked and slipped back into her bag. Following behind everyone else and scuffling her feet, she left homeroom, and moved out into the corridors. In a mere few seconds, she wished she hadn't.  
"www-dot-sally-at-the-smiths-dot-com?! No way!"  
With an anguished groan, Sally scowled in the direction of the voice. Tabitha Miller, one of her bullies from about five schools back. When did she even move here?! Why did fate hate her so much as to bring them back together? Today couldn't get any worse.

"Oh my god, you still look as much like a drowned rat as you did when I first saw you! I mean, you've gotten taller, but you've still got a small chest... pity."  
Unable to contain herself, Sally marched over to the girl, her boots clacking noisily against the tiled floor, and she was satisfied to find that she was now taller than Tabitha by a whole head height, resulting in the girl seeming a bit put off. "You'd better not give me any trouble this time around, Tabitha. Remember when I snapped your arm like a twig, back in 8th grade? I won't hesitate to do that again, with any part of your disgusting little body. Remember that." With one last glare, directly into the eyes, she stormed off in the direction of her first class.

Nothing else happened until lunchtime- at least, nothing that concerned her all that much. Time dragged on, but she got on with her work, if only to block out everyone else. Clearly, her temper wasn't playing today, probably because she had woken up earlier than she would have liked, so it was best just to not speak to anyone. That was still the case now; she was looking for somewhere quiet to sit down and eat her lunch, on her own, undisturbed. An empty classroom or something would do- just somewhere she wouldn't be out in the open, at the mercy of the other Gaga kids.

In the hustle and bustle of the corridors, she was being pushed back and forth, and ended up scowling at several people as they knocked her back and forth. People seemed to be enjoying that, laughing at her, and she eventually shoved her way to the side of the corridor, leaning against the wall to sulk. While she waited for the crowds to calm down, she searched for somewhere to go; then she heard something from the classroom beside her. It was one of the most beautiful sounds she had stumbled across in a long time, and she wondered if it was even real, or whether she had reached the point of being so angry that she was starting to imagine things that would make her day just that little bit better. Either way, she wanted to know what was going on in there.

Carefully, so as not to disturb whatever or whoever was making those glorious sounds, Sally turned the door knob and pushed open the door, peeking in.

Suddenly, the sounds flooded onto her. It was singing, and not like GaGa songs. Real live music. No synthesized noise, no cheesy dances, no background music except for the sound of keys being rapidly typed on- just a voice, all on its own, and a very nice-sounding one, at that. At this particular point, it was relatively high in pitch, but it was clear that this was a young man singing. Whoever sang with such passion, such emotion, such a roar of strength and knowledge in his voice simply couldn't be a GaGa kid. And when Sally focused on the figure that seemed to be making these wonderful noises, her hypothesis was proven correct.

Hunched over the round, white, plastic table in the centre of the room sat a boy who appeared to be her age. Tall and lanky, yet somehow still quite muscular, he was typing away at his laptop whilst singing to himself. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes, he hadn't slept in weeks, but he had a relatively handsome face, Sally supposed- even if he was wearing eyeliner. Messy black hair occasionally fell into his eyes, but it didn't seem to bother him too much; it was as if he was in a trance. His clothes were interesting, too. An off-white t-shirt with no GaGa logo in sight hung loosely off his frame, accompanied by a black jacket made of- was that leather? Illegally downloaded leather, at that. Denim jeans, too, and a pair of biking boots... Not bad.

_"With your feet on the air and your head on the ground... Try this trick and spin it, yeah..."_ The boy feverishly slammed on the keys now as his voice increased in volume. It was actually quite an unsettling sight. _"Your head will collapse, but there's nothing in it, and you'll ask yourself, where is my mind? Where is my mind? Where is my-"_

All of a sudden, he stopped. As if he had just been waken up from a bad dream, he stared straight ahead, directly into her. He seemed to observe her for a moment, then whispered one word. A word that Sally could neither make out nor understand.  
"Excuse me?" she questioned bluntly.  
_"Come as you are, as you were, as I want you to be..."_ Again, he seemed to be under some sort of spell. Dizzily, he got out of his seat, moved towards her and took her hands, guiding her inside the room. _"As a friend, as a friend, as an old enemy..."_

"What? Mate, you're out of your mind!" Sally watched in disbelief as she was searched over by the boy. "Oi! Stop goggling at me like I'm some piece of meat! Are you listening to me?! What the bloody hell do you keep talking about?"  
The boy looked up at her again, seemingly taken aback by her words, then began to speak rapidly at her. "I-I-I said S-Scaramouche. That's- that's you! _Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the fandango?"_

Sally was baffled. She stared wide-eyed for a moment or two, then regained her stern, moody composure. "I ain't no... whatever the hell you just said. I'm just looking for somewhere to eat. Mind if I sit in here?"  
The boy's face cracked into a smile. "Oh, no!" Then he faltered, and became quite nervous. "That is... if you don't mind the voices."  
"What voices?"  
"The voices," he explained. "In my head. I hear them all the time, you see. Words, phrases, and sounds, and I say things that I don't mean to say. It pops up in my head, and then I say it out loud, and I can't control it. The voices, they're always there, I'm always saying things at the wrong time..." Now he sounded quite distressed as he held onto his head and wrenched his eyes closed. _"Darlin' you got to let me know, should I stay or should I go?"_

"You know what? Whatever. I'm hungry, I just want somewhere to eat, and you ain't a GaGa, that's for sure. I can cope with a nutcase for a little while." Sally pulled herself a seat and fished her lunch out of her bag; school meals were disgusting, so she often brought her own lunch to keep herself from either being poisoned or starving to death. As she unwrapped the tin foil from her sandwiches, she spoke to her new companion. "So, if you ain't from the Boy Zone, then who are you?"  
"Y-you mean my- my G-G-G-GaGa name? Or my real name?"  
The girl frowned. "Whatever you prefer to be called."  
"Okay, well..." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "My real name is Galileo Figaro."

Containing laughter, just barely, Sally took a bite of her sandwich. She chewed and swallowed before speaking again. "Poor bloke! Who in their right minds gave you a name like that?"  
"The voices!" he cut in enthusiastically. "They gave it to me, in a dream."  
"The question was rhetorical," she spoke bluntly, seeming to burst Galileo's bubble. "Well, as I was about to say, you mind if I shorten it? I don't think I can call you something like that without laughing. What about... Gazza?"  
The delusional boy pursed his lips. Clearly, he didn't like it very much- perfect.  
"Alright then. Gazza it is. Maybe Gaz, when it rings better." Proud of her new nickname, she tore another bite out of her sandwich.

Suddenly, Galileo seemed to snap again. His slumped shoulders were lost as he sat dead upright, his sheepish expression became almost blank with a vague hint of surprise, and he stared at the far wall for a moment or two before bursting out into song again and continuing to type on his laptop.  
_"Splendour in silver dress, velocity possessed, the world was hers again, it fell apart again- I don't need anyone to hurt me, no, not anyone at all, 'cause my so-called friends have left me, and I don't care at all, leave me alone, leave me alone-_ leave me alone!"

Surprisingly, the song ended in Gazza's yelled, desperate plea as he hid his face in his hands, panting heavily. Then, without lifting his head, he let his fingers drifted to the keyboard and typed again. _"Scaramouche... Scaramouche... will you do the fandango?"_ he repeated slowly.  
Meanwhile, Sally was sitting there, feeling like she was pinned to her chair. It almost scared her to sit here and watch a terrified young man get possessed by the voices in his head, doing things involuntarily, and being so frightened of himself. Almost reluctantly, she shuffled off her seat and moved around to look over his shoulder at the laptop.

The document was hauntingly named 'THE VOICES . TXT', and it seemed to be scarily long. On it was typed a load of nonsense, everything his mouth had just blurted out and more. At random, she picked out a chunk of text to skim read; it was repeatedly asking if Annie was okay, and informing her that she had been hit and struck by a smooth criminal. What did that mean? Almost as if he had sensed her desire to voice such a question, Galileo began to explain.  
"I write it all down... what the voices tell me," he explained solemnly. He sounded so exhausted. "I hope that, if I keep a record of it all, I'll be able to find the answers to it one day. I've read through some of the ancient texts, the words from the past. But they don't answer everything."

"Gazza, mate... I don't know if you've noticed, but you're batshit insane," she spoke, groaning when the bell rang again. "Fuck... I didn't even get to finish my sandwich. Ah, well, time for class..."  
"Please don't leave me."  
Sally froze, alarmed. She turned back to Galileo in shock. "I... I'm sorry?"  
Galileo looked like a smacked puppy. "Please, Scaramouche, don't go. I've been looking for you for so long, I-I-I've had dreams about you all my life! N-not _you_, you, b-but I've heard your name so much, and the voices- they told me how I'd know when I found you, a-a-and now I have! A-and I can't go to class when I'm hearing the voices. S-S-Scaramouche, c-can you just stay with me? Th-the voices, the voices scare me, I-I don't wanna be alone. And- and you can finish eating, too!" He paused, then deflated. "I-I'm sorry. You can go, if you wanna."

Scoffing a little, Sally sat back in her seat. "Nah. I'll stay. It's not like I'm going to miss anything important, anyway."  
Galileo grinned. "Oh, thank you, Scara! Um... you... don't mind if I call you that, do you?"  
"Not really," she commented offhandedly. "Scaramouche is better than bitch."  
The boy grinned sympathetically, then began to sing again, much more cheerfully this time. _"Uh-huh, make me tonight... tonight, make it right, uh-huh, make me tonight..."_

Once again, she began to eat. Now she wasn't quite so startled by his singing, or his typing. At least, not until he turned to her and burst into song.  
_"Well, you had me from hello, I felt love start to grow the moment I looked into your eyes, you won me... it was over from the start, you completely stole my heart... and now you won't let go... I never even had a chance, you know, you had me from-"_ Desperately, he clapped his hands over his mouth. His eyes were wide, and his face was red. Only when he was sure the singing wouldn't continue did he remove his hands, and make a desperate apology. "I-I-I'm so sorry! Th-that was the voices, not m-me! Please don't be uncomfortable..." Quickly, he turned to his laptop and typed furiously, muttering under his breath.

Sally wasn't paying any attention. Her chest felt like it was imploding in on itself, and she was getting tingles all over. That had been unbelievably awkward to sit through, yet... the meaningful way he had been singing, even though the song was clichéd and horrible, and even though it was clearly one of his strange delusions... it made her feel all warm and fuzzy. Despite it being one of those possessions, the fact still stood that it had been the first time anyone had ever said anything so meaningful to her. She couldn't get over that.

"Scara? You're okay, right?" he asked, and Sally shook herself out of her thoughts.  
"Y-yeah... I'm good." To mask her vulnerable state, she pouted and punched him in the arm, even though her face was still rather pink. "Don't sing anything like that to me ever again."  
Galileo nodded. "S-so... you see now why I can't go to class like this?"  
"Honestly, I'm surprised you're even outside when you're prone to that behaviour."

The two of them sat there for the rest of the day. Nobody seemed to care that they were skipping classes. Sally was actually surprised that nobody caught them skiving when Galileo was singing, because he was pretty loud about it- either no one was around to hear them, or they just didn't care. Either way, the girl wasn't bothered. She was actually starting to like Gaz- sure, he was an absolute nutter, and made her kind of uncomfortable sometimes, but he wasn't a GaGa kid. Plus, he meant well. When he wasn't hallucinating, he was nice. It was just too bad that she wasn't.

"Scara... Are we friends?"  
Sally looked up. "Friends...?"  
"Yeah... F-friends. I-I-I'd like to be friends with y-you, Scaramouche... I really would."  
There was a pause in which the girl debated her options. "I... I don't know, Gaz. I've never had a friend... and I'm not the nicest of people. I'm a huge bitch most of the time, and I don't want to upset you or anything like that... You're a nice bloke." That was enough opening up for about a month, she resolved as she avoided eye contact with him. But at least he knew now. He couldn't say that she didn't warn him about her sting.

"Well, that's okay... I-it's not your fault. You're only like that because you're s-s-scared that you'll let your guard down, and someone will say something n-nasty and hurt your feelings. That's what's always happened... R-right?"  
Sally was blown away. "How did you...?!"  
"The voices," Gaz reminded her, and for the first time, the girl began to wonder if these things he said he could hear in his head weren't delusions at all. At first, she had put him down as being some sort of schizophrenic, but now that he seemed to be told things that no one knew about her...  
"That, and it's sort of easy to figure out."  
"I'm not sure whether I should be offended by that or not."

"Well, anyway," Gaz continued, ignoring her point, "I don't mind. I mean, maybe making a friend will help you loosen up a little. I promise, I'll try not to get mad at you, i-if you try and tolerate me, too. How about that?"  
There was one last, silent ponder, and then she nodded. "Fair enough... sounds good. I have a... friend."

The final bell of the day blared out, making both of the oddly-dressed rebels cringe. "Alright!" cried the GaGa kids, and Sally growled under her breath. That had grown old after the second time.  
As Galileo packed his things away, he looked up at her. "W-w-would you like me to w-walk you home? Maybe the GaGas will be a bit more intimidated i-if there's two of us..."  
"I don't think that's true," she commented, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Only come with me if you live my way. I don't want to drag you away for nothing."  
"No, it's okay. I can't go home until it's dark, I have all evening."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sally quizzed as she waited for Galileo, and when he stood, she realised how much taller he was than herself. It pissed her off somewhat, and she folded her arms.  
Galileo shook his head. "Nevermind. Maybe I'll show you one day. If you wanted, you could always stick with me for the evening."  
"No, I'll pass. Today worked me up, and I've got more unpacking to do at home."

The pair of them slinked out of the empty classroom and made their way down the halls. The GaGa kids were still leaving their lessons, so they made the most of their newfound space and got the hell out of school as fast as they could, at which point Sally began to lead them in the direction of her home.  
"So, Scara... Do you want to do that again tomorrow? B-because the voices are less scary when you're there."  
Sally shrugged passively. "If it gets me out of GaGa Dance, sure thing."  
Galileo's face spread into a smile again. "Thanks, Scaramouche. I knew I could count on you. God, I'm glad I finally met you."

Idle chatter followed. It was only silence filler, in Sally's opinion- nothing of particular significance. Somehow, though, it kind of was important, because she'd never had anyone to have small talk with before. It felt good to just mindlessly chatter with someone, even though it would be occasionally cut off by something Gaz said that made absolutely no sense. Still, it seemed to be calming down a bit now; they were just mutters, and that was a lot easier to ignore than the anguished cries and songs from before. By the time they reached her apartment block, she was quite calm, and she bid goodbye to her new friend before heading inside to go home.

Sally stalked through the corridors, ignoring the weird look she got from the pink-haired receptionist as she moved straight over to the elevator. Those planning on getting in before her moved out of the way to give her the elevator all to herself, and she rolled her eyes. Adults in GaGa land were ridiculously immature. As if they wouldn't share a lift with a teenager just because of what she was wearing! Still, she couldn't complain, because now she didn't have to suffocate on cheap perfume or burn her eyes out on the bright colours. She took satisfaction in marching right through the tiny, parting crowd, standing alone in the elevator, jabbing a finger onto the fourth floor button and watching the goggling neighbours disappear behind a pair of metal doors.

Up, up and away... The elevator began to ascend, and Sally huffed in annoyance at how enfuriatingly painful the muffled music that played was to listen to. It was a basic instrumental version of the latest release from Globalsoft Music Corporation; the girl didn't know what it was called, but it sounded the damn same as every one of its predecessors. It was all the same sort of tempo, the same note scales, even the same instruments. The only thing that ever seemed to change were the words, and even then, the meaning behind them was always the same. This world was driving her to insanity. Everything was the same!

Once the lift rattled to a stop on the fourth floor and the doors opened, she strode down the corridor. Corridors were a constant theme in her life, it seemed- at least this one was more pleasant than the ones at Cyber High. After all, _nothing_ could be worse than anything at that damn place, especially not when there was a home at the end of this path. Not an ideal one, of course, but it was better than nothing. It was a roof over her head, and there was food and drink, even if it wasn't very tasty.

Sally fished out her keycard from her bag before she even reached the front door, so it was ready to scan when she got there. As usual, there was a soft bleep, and the lock clicked open, allowing her to open the door and stomp inside.

Living life as a latchkey was good, in her opinion; her current foster parents were often still at work for a long while after she got home from school. That gave her a few hours' peace to relax, and not be reprimanded about her rebellious ways. After all, they worked for Globalsoft, and it was only really the image she reflected onto them that they cared about, not the fact that their adoptive daughter was bullied every day of her life and had become terribly insecure because of it. Oh, she couldn't stand either of them, and having a while on her own to make herself something _she_ wanted to eat for dinner, get some homework out of the way, and cool down after simmering all day was a blessing.

Another thing she didn't like, though, was the girl she called foster sister. The bitch's name was Dolly, and she thought she was so high and mighty because she was two years older, and already of age to go to whatever GaGa college she was flouncing around in right now. Sally was grimly reminded of the girl when, from her bag, her tablet made another bothersome pinging noise. Knowing it would be that stupid sister, since she was the only one who ever emailed her, she kicked the apartment door shut and tossed her schoolbag onto the ugly, neon green couch. Then she unzipped the top and pulled out the device.

_"Dolly to Sally,"_ came that adenoidal, grating voice that sounded more electronic than usual coming from the speakers. _"Pick up, slowpoke!"_  
Rolling her eyes, Sally pushed her finger down on the flashing blue envelope on the screen. Up popped an image of the young woman; her blonde hair was cropped and streaked with pink highlights, her face was coated with eyeshadow and blusher and glittery lipgloss, and she was chewing noisily on some gum. Dolly looked very bored as she stared at the screen, and it took her a second to notice that her call had been answered.

_"Oh. There you are. Took you long enough."_  
"Oi, shut it, gobby," Sally snapped. "What do you want?"  
Dolly's brow furrowed further. _"Calm down, crabby. Mum just told me to call you. They're gunna stay at work for an extra hour or so, so don't wait up for them. As for me, I'm going to Tequiri tonight, so you'll have to survive on your own until Mum and Dad get back."_  
The younger of the girls sighed at the mention of the newest nightclub in town. "Whatever. Go ahead."

_"Oh- also, order me a pizza for when I get home at eight. Make sure it's cheese and tomato with anchovies- that's the latest trend right now. Keep that in mind, you're gunna need it."_  
Sally scowled. "No! Get your own bloody pizza, you lazy cow. If that's all you've got to tell me, then scram."  
Dolly considered that. _"Oh! Yeah, there is one more thing. You look like a transvestite in those rags. Get a fashion sense, loser."_

"Fuck _right off,_ you-!" Sally was cut off by the pop of gum, and the sound of the call ending, taking her back to the homepage of her tablet. Screaming in frustration, the girl all but threw it back onto the couch, not caring how dangerously close it came to bouncing off and shattering on the floor. That brainless, stuck-up GaGa girl thought she knew it all. She could think again.

The teenager took a deep, slow breath. _Calm down, Sally,_ she told herself, then cringed at her horrid GaGa name. Now that she thought about it, she should start calling herself something else... something better. Something that didn't make her feel horrible and trapped in a world full of identical people who were shaped rather than being able to shape themselves.  
In that moment, there was an echo in her mind.

_Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the fandango?_

Scaramouche... Galileo's new name for her. It was odd, she had to admit, but it sounded almost anarchic. Almost like something that, once upon a time, could have been called... a tune. How terrible- she was starting to admire the crazy man's freaky delusions, but she had to admit, it was a pretty cool nickname. Maybe she could use it, just for now; a private name between Gaz and herself, just to escape from Globalsoft's virtual reality for a little while. That made her feel a bit better, and she kept focusing on that as she headed to the kitchen.

"Alright, Scaramouche," she said to herself. "What are you having for dinner?" As she walked over to the fridge, she opened it and wrinkled up her face. Nothing interesting... Pizza it was, then. Maybe she could mess with Dolly like this. That would teach her not to push around a girl with such willpower and cunning. Leave the empty pizza box on the table with the lid shut, and bam- instant payback, right there. Snatching up her tablet again, she browsed through the web and found her favourite pizza place's website; their pizzas were the ones that tasted least like plastic, cardboard or rubber. Sure, it wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing. After a few minutes' worth of consideration, she chose a pepperoni pizza with extra onion, ordering it swiftly and waiting.

In the meantime, she sat down and opened up her emails again. To her surprise, there was a message waiting in her inbox; it was from a boy called Gordon Jones, and she scoffed. Great. Probably a chain mail from one of the GaGa kids. Everyone knew that some people were players, and would send mass emails to attract several people on the same date and cause a scene. Scaramouche herself had recieved a fair share. Usually, she would brush it off as either some sort of joke or a randomly chosen contact to send the message to, but she would still read them, just out of curiosity, and for her own amusement. So, she opened the email, and was surprised when the page loaded.

_Hey, Sally!_

"Oh, great... It's Gazza," Scaramouche muttered, but she couldn't help feeling pleasantly surprised. This was the first genuinely friendly email she had read in a long time, and she had only seen the first two words. Leaning back against the sofa, she pulled her legs up and rested the tablet against her thighs whilst she continued to read.

_Did you get home okay? Listen, my... family and I are planning a party, and I wondered if you wanted to come? Don't worry, it's not a GaGa party. I-_

Galileo's voice reading out the letter in her head was interrupted by a knock at the door. She placed her device to one side and moved over to the front door; upon opening it, a Boy Zone boy stood at the door, dressed in the delivery company's uniform and grinning ecstatically. That smile quickly morphed into a look of utter shock at the sight of her, and he seemed to freeze; she just snatched the pizza off him, swiped her card into the machine that he was holding to pay for the meal, and then slammed the door in his face. She was busy- she didn't have time for GaGa pizza boys. The only credit she could give him was that the delivery was quick.

With a sigh, Scaramouche dropped heavily back onto the couch. Her tablet found its way back into her hands, the pizza box replacing its position beside her on the couch; she lifted the cardboard lid, took a slice and took a ravenous bite off the end as she continued reading.

_I'll tell you more about it at school tomorrow, and you can think harder about it tonight and tell me then, if you want. You're welcome to join us, if you want to, but you certainly don't have to. Anyway, I gotta go- let me know soon if you're going to come. Enjoy your evening, I guess._

_\- Gordon._

A family party? How dorky was this kid? Scaramouche couldn't help grinning wryly at the screen, but she still took note of the ellipsis in front of the word of her amusement. It was strange that he had typed out what ultimately would have been a hesitation in real life. Did he intentionally do that to make her laugh, or maybe to show her that it wasn't entirely the truth? One thing she couldn't help cringing at was the use of her real name as well as his in the email, but she understood why he had done it- Globalsoft tracked every email sent by anyone, to anyone on Planet Mall. Using their nicknames for each other would be risky, and if they were concerned enough about a pair of teenagers using individual thought to give each other new names rather than genuine criminals, they could be arrested.

But, going back to the point, Scara considered the offer. It didn't sound too bad, come to think of it. Sure, it would be bad if Gazza's so-called family was anything like him, but what was the worst that could happen? The girl was inconsiderate enough of other's feelings to march right out of there if she didn't like what was happening; her no-nonsense attitude would mean she felt no remorse. Besides, she'd never been to a party before, and something told her that this man wouldn't attend a GaGa bash for the life of him.

Once again, Scaramouche sighed. She pulled her legs up again, not caring that she would be severely scolded if anyone saw her with her boots on the sickeningly brightly-coloured sofa, and glanced out of the window. It wasn't much of a different feeling to staring straight at the blinding white walls of the apartment, which reminded her of an asylum building. There was more colour outside, admittedly, but the city was like a prison to her. This landscape was what trapped her, and she couldn't even admire the architecture of it all. She wanted something new, something grittier and more exciting. Hell, even having a dustbin for a home was better than this. Someone just needed to get her out of GaGa Land, before she exploded.

The pizza long forgotten, Scara scoffed and hugged her knees. The whole damn planet was caught up in this life of marketing and propaganda and_ lies_. Where would she go otherwise? If she left_ this_ city, no matter how many miles she walked, there would always be another one waiting at the end of the road. That made a lump form in her throat, even though she tried desperately to hold it back, because if she didn't fit in in Globalsoft's empire, and that expanded across the entire world, where _did_ she belong?

At least she had Galileo, she concluded. That was something, at least. Yes, he was a maniac, and he wasn't the perfect companion, by any means. But, she reminded herself, he wasn't a GaGa kid. That still stood for something. As well as that, he was an outcast; she'd never met another one, like herself. Before today, of course.

Right now, she decided, she didn't need to belong anywhere. Yes, she'd like to, but it wasn't such a desperate situation anymore now that she had Gaz. The current of life that she had been swept through and almost drowned in had slowed down to a steady stream, and her new friend was the stranger that had helped her onto his raft, allowing them both to float contentedly downstream. She was happy to let that be so for a while.

In the silence of the apartment, Scaramouche took a deep breath. Though she didn't feel particularly bad right now, while she was by herself, she decided to busy herself with some self-sympathy, away from prying eyes. For comfort purposes, she kicked off her boots. Then she took one of the repulsive neon pillows from beside her, rested it on her knees, and hid her face in it. Whether she was going to cry or not, she didn't really know, but just sitting like this was enough to calm her somewhat. As she was dwelling on her own problems and determined that she was strong enough to get by without shedding tears, she listened to the buzz of the city outside, and wished with all her might that, even though she was fine with not being welcomed with open arms for now, she could get out of this city- that she could be anywhere but here.

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Whew! That one took a while to write. I'm liking this, though. I'm not really sure where this is going to go, I'm pretty much making it up as I go along- I hope it doesn't lead to any plot holes or anything like that.  
_

_Right now, Chapter 3 is well under way! I'm not sure if anyone's reading this fic, but I'm certainly enjoying writing it, so while it's always nice to get some R&amp;R, the main thing is that it's fun, right? _

_Next chapter is packed full of stuff; Bohemians, drama, and some hints at romance. I'm looking forward to posting it. If anyone is, thanks for reading! _


	3. Chapter II

**Chapter Two - Gonna Be Free**

Scaramouche reached her apartment and sprinted through the it with surprising agility in such chunky and stiff boots. This speed kept up until she reached her bedroom; she tossed her bag onto the bed and unzipped it, pulling out another bag of a different style. It appeared to have once been some sort of GaGa fashion brand, but it had been torn severely, especially around where the logo would have been, and patched up with all sorts of funky looking materials that she had never even seen before. Scara grinned as she stashed it under her bed, just as Dolly came marching in through the front door, which still remained open.

"Sally!" she called impatiently. "Why is the door open? Also, gimme your credit card. I'm ordering takeaway."

Grinning mischievously to herself, Scara nudged the bag deep under the bed with her foot, thinking over the situation with concealed excitement.

_"Oh- Scara, I-I g-got something to give to you!" Galileo fumbled about in his bag._

_With a frown, Scaramouche looked up from her laptop. The two of them were skipping class- again. Gaz was fine; they just weren't bothered about going to Home Techonomics or Technical Studies today. Or any day, for that matter. Honestly, no one cared that they weren't attending class, neither students nor teachers. Skipping class was easy when you weren't welcome in society._

_"So, y-y-you're still c-coming to the party tonight, r-right? Because my friend made you an outfit to wear."_  
_"Your... friend?" Scara questioned skeptically. First it was family, now it was friends. Couldn't he make up his mind about who they were?_

_Seeming to miss the point of the rude remark, the boy nodded fervently. "Yeah! Well, I guess she's more like a-a roomie or something. B-but she went scavenging and found you something to wear!" He pulled out a battered, patched-up tote bag and held it out for her, grinning enthusiastically._  
_Confused, Scara took the bag. Scavenging implied that this 'friend' had searched through, what, wheelie bins or something? Was she going to be wearing clothes infected with germs and insects? Another important question; "Uh... Gaz? Are you sure these are going to fit me?" She opened the bag to peek in._

_"Don't look!" _  
_The girl looked up in surprise. The boy was holding his hands out to stop her, and she thought this all seemed very suspicious. Narrowing her eyes at him, she lowered the bag. "Why?"_

_"Meat told me to tell you to keep it a surprise until you get ready tonight."_

_More questions arose at the statement. "Meat...? Gaz, these friends of yours better not be imaginary."_  
_"No, Scara. They're real. You'll see." He smiled in her direction and she sighed. This had better be worth it._

Hours passed. Dolly had eaten, and was currently blaring out some irritating GaGa tune from the radio; her parents had returned, too, and were hopelessly attempting to persuade their daughter to turn down the music before the neighbours complained. None of them were concerned about their rebel of a foster daughter-slash-sister, who was locked away in her bedroom, and reading through a short email from her only friend.

_Hey, Sally._

_Here's the plan. Get dressed and leave your apartment ASAP. Meet me outside school, and I'll take you the rest of the way. Be careful- the cops are out there at night, and you never know what they'll do. Just keep an eye out, and take different routes if you have to. See you later._

_\- Gordon._

The young woman scoffed. As if the police were any threat to a badass babe in killer heels. If not those, then it would be boots- all the better for crushing a man where the sun didn't shine. As for women, they didn't necessarily have that weak spot, but on the upside, she could still cause damage anywhere else. Believe it or not, although she was sure that anyone who knew her well enough would buy the former, she was quite a good fighter.

Well, this was it. The party was in about an hour. Now would be a good time to start getting ready. After safely placing her tablet to one side, Scara stood up and fished out the bag from under the bed. It was heavy in her hands, and she was glad to dispose of the weight by turning the bag upside down and tipping all of the clothes out onto the bed.

Scara was speechless at first. Clothes that she would never have dreamed of wearing spilled out onto the bed, and she took a moment to gape at them. Wow... It was so unique. Nothing on Planet Mall, nothing she nor any GaGa girls might wear, compared to all of this. It was so weird, and yet so brilliant. Maybe it would look less odd as an outfit rather than a bundle of clothes.

The first thing that Scaramouche picked out was a pair of black boots, and she was pleased to see that they were boots _with heels_. Even better than the flat ones she would usually stamp around in. Quite stylish, too, might she add. Next came the ripped-up, dark red skinny jeans, and she cringed. She didn't like her legs, so this was certainly going to be a challenge. Sure, they looked cool in themselves, but she'd never really suited any other colour than black, and with her wispy little legs, she didn't think that she'd be able to pull them off.

The shirt was a strange one. It was blue, with red lines that started in the centre and stretched out horizontally, vertically and diagonally, all of which had a thin white border. It was a strange pattern, the teenager noted, and she wondered whether it was just a peculiar design, or if it meant something else. The shirt was thin and sleeveless, not ideal for a girl with body issues, so she was glad to find the leather jacket accompanying it, even though it was cropped up to where her waist would be, and much more feminine than the one Galileo, for example, wore.

Perhaps the strangest part of the goodie bag was the hair tie that came with it. It was nothing special, just plain black, and she wondered why anyone would even bother packing something like that in with the outfit. Maybe it was an accident? That was when she noticed there was a tag tied to it, on which was writing.

_Enjoy yourself tonight, hen! - Meat x_

"... Huh." Scaramouche observed the outfit once more, and then reluctantly changed into it. Amongst the pile of clothes that steadily grew smaller, she found an old, battered biscuit tin, inside which she found an assortment of makeup. Another note was stuck onto the inside lid.

_Please bring this and the bag back with you! Keep the clothes, though._

Within about half an hour, she had washed her previous train wreck of a face clean off, and begun the makeup process again. Finding herself with some bright red lipstick, smokey black eyeshadow and a thick layer of eyeliner, Scara marvelled at the miraculous difference this stuff had made to her face. Evidently, she was no makeup expert, as shown by the number she had done on her face earlier today, making her look like she had been punched in the face repeatedly. Even so, what she had right now looked... good. Just not so much on her own face, but what could she do?

As she had been asked to, she picked up the bag, and the tin of makeup was dropped inside it. Just so she wasn't carrying around a whole bag for nothing, she also packed her tablet, as well as a spare pair of shoes, just in case the worst came to the worst. Who knew what could happen out there? After all, it was pretty dark out there now, and the streets weren't the safest place to be when there was a corrupt police force on their case.

It took a few minutes for Scaramouche to gather up the courage to even leave her bedroom. Aside from looking like a clown, she didn't want to face her family, and was starting to have second thoughts about going to a party at a mysterious location with a boy she had known for only a week. These 'friends' of his could be less trustworthy than they were made out to be, and how did she know that Galileo himself was even to be trusted? Of course, she had spent some time with him, but that was Cyber High. Anything dodgy that happened there would be reported- what anyone with bad intentions would need to do was lure their victim away to somewhere isolated. Somewhere like a so-called party.

Scara shook it off. Galileo was too much of a lunatic to be any sort of threat. Besides, she wasn't completely defenceless. Once again, she reassured herself that she was tough. Hell, she _knew_ she was tough. She had survived everything Planet Mall had to throw at her for seventeen long, hopeless years; nothing else could faze her now. She was made of steel- no, titanium. Diamond would be the next step, but she wasn't sparkly or precious enough to be worthy of that title.

Alright. She was okay. All she had to remember was that she didn't look as bad as she thought she did- years of bullying gave someone a low opinion of themselves, and she had to bear that in mind. Aside from that, her family could say what the bloody hell they wanted, but their opinion didn't matter. It wasn't asked for, it wasn't relevant, and they were just a trio of gobby good-for-nothings who couldn't keep their traps shut or their opinions to themselves. Finally, Gaz was fine. He was a respectable young man, the only friend she had ever had, and she had to trust him.

Scaramouche took a deep breath, and reached out for the door handle. With a sudden spur of courage, she swung the bag over her shoulder, and strode straight out of her room. Striding straight towards the door, she kept her eyes on it, blocking out her family completely- at least, she tried to. That was, of course, until one of them opened their mouth.

"And _where_ do you think you're going dressed like _that_, young lady?" her foster mother, Veronica, demanded in a scolding manner, jerking out her hip and folding her arms.  
_Deep breaths, Scara,_ she told herself as she turned to the lady and did her best to speak calmly. "Mum," she said, the title sour on her tongue, "I'm going out. Don't try to stop me."  
Dolly popped her gum. "Wow. What a little rebel. I'm still waiting for that credit card, by the way."  
"You're not getting it," she snapped. Then she reminded herself of it- calm. Calm. Stay calm. Be the better person here. Dolly was purposely trying to pick a fight.  
Charles, her foster father, frowned. "No, you're not, missy. You're staying here."  
That almost sent her catapulting into the danger zone. Just in time, she saved herself. "No. I'm going out. Just you try and stop me." Before any other protests could come her way, she was out of the door; immediately, she took off down the stairs, as waiting for the elevator would give her alleged family a chance to catch up. It didn't sound like anyone was pursuing her, but she didn't dare stop and take that chance as she dived down to the bottom floor and sprinted out of the front doors. She purposely ignored the receptionist's double take.

Once she was outside, she didn't stop. She continued tearing through the vacant city streets with no intent of stopping until she was out of the way of that horrid apartment block, and although she was no athlete, her somewhat long legs managed to carry her a fair way until she reached Cyber High. She had had to cut through several alleyways to avoid Globalsoft police- they would at least caution her if they saw her dressing the way she had, but she was a serial offender in the fashion business. Tonight wasn't the night she felt like getting arrested on, and so she kept her distance, even though heeled boots weren't the easiest things to run in. In the end, despite having become pretty lost, she found her way to a familiar street and followed it up to the school building, where she came to a halt.

Now Scara wanted- no, needed to sit down and rest. Her lungs ached horrifically in their desperate plea for oxygen, her ankles screamed in pain, and she felt like she could collapse at any moment. Stamina was usually not a problem with her, but she had been running for a ridiculous amount of time now. A break was necessary. For this reason, she staggered up a few steps and let herself plop onto one of them. Relief flooded through her, and she gave herself a few minutes to reflect on things while she waited for Gaz.

Music, annoying, pretentious GaGa music was coming from inside the school building. At first, Scara was puzzled, but then she remembered- tonight was the night of the Cyber High Spring Dance. Wonderful. Wait- could this all be some elaborate plan to trick her into attending the school dance? Was that the significance of waiting out here- he was going to take them both inside and subject them to the torture of boy bands, and girl bands, and girl bands with a couple of boys that looked like girls? Oh, he'd better not, or she'd beat the everloving shit out of him. Still, something told her that he probably wasn't. Maybe they were just meeting here so that they didn't look suspicious to the police, or maybe there was no significant reason for it other than the fact that it was, presumably, close to both of their houses, and a place that both of them had become familiar with. She didn't know, and she didn't really care, because it was pointless speculation.

It was now she realised that she had no idea what parties were like. Yes, she knew GaGa parties, but that certainly wasn't the event she was going to now. No, a real party, something wild and exciting and _illegal_ that just broke the rules and let loose. The idea was thrilling, yet she wouldn't know what a party would need to be like in order for that to be a possibility. It was, scarily, beyond her capability of imagination that a gathering like that could be something better than an uncomfortable, forced event talking to robots. Oh, that triggered a bad memory...

_Sally was out of her depth, to say the least. _

_Cropped, hot pink hair framed the six-year-old's pouting, slightly flushed face. Clearly, she wasn't happy about being dressed in what she was; a bright green and pink polyester dress with a satin-like finish hung off her skinny frame, shaped by wire inside it that made it look angular and futuristic. On her legs were tights the colour of lime, and her silver boots finished off the gaudy assemblage of clothes. _

_Another GaGa party was being held by another girl she didn't care about. Naturally, Bridget, her foster mother of the time, had deemed it a wonderful idea to pressure the girl's parents into inviting Sally along, and she was livid. How could they do this to her?! No way would she ever go to a GaGa party of her own free will! All the colour made her feel sick, and nobody liked her anyway, so why would they want her to sing and dance and chat along with them? _

_That's right. Even at the young age of six, going on seven in a few months' time, Sally knew she was different. She knew full well that she wasn't liked, nor was she welcome in GaGa society. Still, she had no choice, she felt at that time, but to go along with their rules, because she could get into serious trouble if she even dared go against Globalsoft's grand vision of GaGa Land. Regardless of age, anyone could be punished, and she hadn't yet been pushed out so far that she just embraced it and fought back in her fashion, as she would in later life. No, right now, she (or at least, her so-called mother) was still trying her hardest to find the tiniest gap in this tightly-packed society to squeeze her into, because there wasn't anywhere else to turn._

_Around her, the other girls were dancing with the same moves to the same tunes that they had been for months straight, seeming to do it with such perfection that it was almost pitiful. For all of this time, these same dances and same words had been hammered into their sorry little brains. Now they could do it blindfolded, in their sleep, with every obstacle or distraction possible thrown at them. It was honestly horrifying, and Sally still wasn't used to living in a society like this._

_Suddenly, the third song in a row came to a stop, and there was silence for a few split seconds. Everybody cheered and high fived each other, and crowded around the birthday girl, Bayleigh, to chatter away in their strange durr-brain language. In the meantime, Sally decided that she really didn't want to be here, and no 'mother' of hers could stop her from walking right out of this joke show. Besides, she was sick of these clothes. She hated them, and wanted them off. Home was the best place to find something better._

_Just as she moved from her position against the wall, all eyes turned on her, as if they had just noticed her presence. Then, there was a rippling burst of laughter, and on the inside, Sally felt just as pained as Bayleigh looked when she realised the resident weirdo was here to ruin her big day._  
_Odd choruses began to speak at her at once. Little groups were jeering in her face, chilling her to the bone at their synchronization._  
_"Ewww, who invited the ugly one?!" screeched a group of girls._  
_"Freak!" sneered about five of the few boys who had been invited to the party._  
_"That outfit is, like, so 2297," three girls rudely commented, and Sally flushed. That was the year of her birth..._

_More and more yelling took place. Young Sally was losing control of her temper, despite how hard she tried to bite her tongue and not give them the satisfaction of knowing how much they were winding her up. She was a coiled spring, a ticking time bomb waiting to combust, and in time, she was seeing red, as well as her vision blurring due to tears. The vexation and chagrin she had felt before were morphing into sheer, utter fury, and she was about to blow her lid-_

"Scara? I-is that you?"

The soft, more mature, and significantly less nasty voice cut through her little bubble, popping it quickly as she tuned back into the present. Galileo stood a few feet away, and a disheartened yet energised Scaramouche hauled herself to her feet upon recognising him.  
"Evening, Gaz," she spoke scathingly, marching noisily down the stairs to meet him. However, no stupid response came from the young man, and she was genuinely surprised to reach the pavement and find that his reaction was one of complete awe. His jaw was on the floor at the sight of her, both eyes like saucers as he watched her every move. In a way, it was quite flattering, but that was mostly cancelled out by how freaky it was.

"Oi. Space cadet." Scara waved in front of the dizzy dreamer's face.  
Though Gaz seemed to snap out of something at that moment, he still seemed quieter than usual, and pretty dumbstruck when he spoke again. "W-wow... y-you look beautiful. Really different. I-in a good way."  
That was something that she didn't quite know how to react to. At first, she was taken aback, and then was tempted to make a snide comment, but bit her tongue, as what he had said was so kind. For a moment, she wrung her hands, and let out a soft, "No I don't..." before changing the subject.

"Anyway. Are you ready to go?" He had better go along with this. Such sweet words had genuinely moved her, and she didn't like it. It made her feel off balance, like someone actually appreciated her for once. Though she had to admit that was what she wanted, it messed with her entire setup of 'self consciousness masked by vocal confidence', and she didn't like being thrown off that comfortable route so suddenly.

"Oh- yes, yes! Of course! Th-the place is right this way." Motioning for her to follow, he walked with her towards another nearby alley.  
Scaramouche looked at Galileo's back, and realised that he had kept on the same clothes. Part of her wondered if that was intentional, but it wasn't like she really gave a toss. It wasn't like it was any of her business to critique anyone else's fashion choices. What she did judge, though, was the disgusting atmosphere in these back streets, where there were there was lots of litter and gutters and all sorts of disgusting things. If this party was a drugs bust, she told herself, she honestly wouldn't be surprised. It would explain her companion's insanity all the time.

All of a sudden, the boy came to a stop. "Here we are!"  
Scara frowned. "Gaz... we're in the middle of an alleyway. And there's no one here."  
"Well, we're not inside yet." Galileo grinned, then leaned down and grabbed the drain cover between their feet. "Here is where the party begins."  
Silence fell. The girl was simply dumbfounded that this boy wanted to take her down into a sewer for a party, and he didn't seem to be showing any signs that this was just some weird joke. In fact, he simply pulled the cover to one side, and waited expectantly.  
"G-go on, get in! You go first."

"Oh my god, you're fucking crazy! I'm not getting in that drain!" she yelled, frustrated. After all of this, he wanted her to climb into Planet Mall's sewage system! Unbelievable. "Whatever. This isn't worth my time."  
"No no no, wait! I'm being serious. It's not what you think."  
Scaramouche debated it for a moment. Storming off in anger would only repel him. Him, the only friend she had ever truly had in seventeen years. This was probably worth it.  
Fine.

Internally groaning, she approached the drain. She was reluctant to touch anything at first, but once she found that the metal ladder was dry and clean, she was a bit more intrigued to descend into the darkness and discover what lay in wait. "What's even down there?" she questioned, carefully placing one foot on the top step of the ladder, then her second foot on the next.  
"You'll see." Gaz waited until she had reached the ground before following her, and the way he casually hauled the drain cover back into place and clambered down the ladder in a few seconds flat made it clear that he had been here before, and did this frequently.

Soon, once she started paying attention, she noticed that there was music playing, somewhere deeper in... wherever they were. Right now, she couldn't see- it was almost pitch black. But she could hear the melody, the roaring riff of an unknown instrument tearing through the air, and she knew that she wasn't in GaGa Land anymore.  
There was a chuckle from somewhere behind her. "You can hear it, right?"

Scara had almost been expecting a different person to be standing there when she turned around. Galileo, in the space of a few feet moving downwards, had turned from a dorky, stuttering lunatic into... someone else. His posture was no longer slouched in underconfidence, but he stood tall and firm, his lanky teenage frame suddenly looking that fraction more broad and muscular. Now he didn't look shifty and tense, but self-assured and collected. It was like this was where he belonged, and now he was visibly relaxed because of it. Hell, even his voice had changed. It was deeper, and there was no sign of a stutter or a hesitation anywhere. The girl was thoroughly puzzled by the sudden change, as shown by the furrow of her eyebrows when she looked him over, and the slight drop of her jaw.

"Sweet, sweet music... " he enthused, barely even noticing the way his friend was watching him in baffled astonishment. "Isn't it beautiful?"  
Quite simply, Scaramouche was enthralled by the noise; that gorgeous, powerful growling noise that she had never heard before accompanying vocals that simply blew her away. It was on a whole other level to the trashy and identical 'music' that Globalsoft produced. By an unseen force, a little something she called curiosity, she moved in the direction of that noise. It lured her forward, and although she was careful and made sure that she didn't make the wrong step and hurt herself, she wanted to find the source of that magnificent sound.

Somewhere to her right, she heard the sound of clanging metal, the buzz of electricity, and then she was momentarily blinded by light as it flickered on above her. Squinting, she looked around at their new location; in her limited vision, she figured they were in an underground tunnel of some sort. Then her eyes gradually began to adjust, and Scaramouche realised that she was, in fact, standing in an abandoned train station. The walls and ceiling around her were rounded, made up of off white, almost browning tiles; looking down, she saw that she was standing on the edge of a platform, below which were train tracks. Turning around, she looked to Gaz. He stood in front of a power box on the wall, which he had presumably used to start the power in this place. Her eyes drifted past him, scanning over the signs and... other things plastered on the tiled surfaces all around them.

"What is this place?" Scara breathed in wonderment. Slowly, she moved towards the wall, and ran her fingers lightly over one of them. It was nearly completely coated in these weird, unmoving commercials made of paper, for strange things that she had never seen before. What was this Phantom of the Opera? Who was Bon Jovi? The Cure for what? Why was the Stone rolling? Journey to where? What Men At Work? What did any of these things mean?

"This? This is my home," Galileo responded, turning to her with a grin. "Those are the ancient clues to the past that my friends and I collect. Aren't they amazing?" His voice had become breathy, quiet, awestruck himself at the bizarre surroundings, from the huge piles of old furniture and other clutter in various places, to the tiniest cracks in the tiles. Scara couldn't help being quite enthralled by that, watching the young man scan the room as if he was in love with it. In a way, it seemed like he probably was. There would be no surprise there; she herself was starting to wonder if she loved it, too. Yes, she decided, she did. This was a world away from Globalsoft and the lack of identity of 2304. This was the past, where life was free and individual and expressive and wonderful, a whole world where she didn't want to just disappear and never exist ever again. Somewhere she wanted to be.

Footsteps made their way in her direction while she looked over the decaying ceiling, and two hands took her own. By the time she had looked back down to earth, she was being guided by her friend up one of the strange corridors, to where she assumed this party was happening.  
"What was this place?" she pushed. "Did Globalsoft build this?"  
"No, no! Globalsoft know nothing about this," Gaz explained. "We're hiding from the cops, see. Down here, we live free. We don't play by the rules of their stupid, cloned sheep society. This is where rock and roll lives, man!"

"... Right... What's rock and roll?" Scara moved carefully as Gaz took her down some further stairs. "Plus, you didn't really tell me where we are."  
"What's rock and roll?! Oh, Scara, you're missing out! Rock and roll... is freedom!" He laughed in delight. "And, um... well, we don't know what this place would have been used for. All we can figure out is that there must have been trains."  
"No kidding," she uttered under her breath, although she couldn't help warming up a little at the way he seemed so happy down here. It was strange, really, because this was just some abandoned train station; however, she had to admit, it was quite a cool place to be, and an even cooler one to live in, even if it wasn't exactly a penthouse or an apartment complex like the ones back up on the surface of Planet Mall.

"Ah... Here we are."  
Now the sounds were louder than ever. Music was blaring out at such a volume that the two of them were having to raise their voices to hear each other, and it had darkened rather quickly since they abandoned their post in the lit area of the tunnels. In fact, it was pitch black now, save for the flashing lights from a strange contraption above them; from what she could make out in the darkness, it was a sphere in shape with coloured lights dotted all over it. It rotated quickly and cast lights all over the walls, which allowed Scara to notice just one sign; it was a large, red and white circle, in the middle of which was a blue rectangle reading, 'PICCADILLY CIRCUS' in white text. It was intriguingly mysterious, and the young woman frowned thoughtfully.

And there were people. Lots of people, all crowded around in this huge place; some stayed on the platforms, others had spilled into the train tracks. All of them were... moving. Moving in ways that she couldn't quite describe as anything else but individually. Each of them seemed to be doing what their bodies wanted, some looking a bit more ridiculous doing so than others, but no one seemed to care too much about it. They just let themselves go. All of them made these movements in time with the music blaring out from some ancient old jukebox leaning against the wall in the middle of this particular tunnel, and it was very odd, indeed. Yet, it was somehow enthralling.

"Um, Gaz?" she called, tugging on the taller boy's sleeve in order to get his attention as she observed the mass of people. "What are they all doing?"  
"That, Scara, is dancing," Gaz responded, and she looked up at him with a bewildered expression. "Amazing, isn't it? This is how it used to be, Scaramouche. It was never about being in synch and following everyone else- it was about you, and expressing yourself. Isn't that just wonderful?"  
Scara turned back to the sea of people again, watching them dance and sing along with the music and laugh and simply enjoy themselves. "... Yeah... it is."

Galileo wrapped an arm around her and guided her further down the platform, and Scaramouche ignored the way people stared at her as she went by. It must have been because she was a newcomer, someone they had never seen before, and that was what she put it down to as she was led towards a certain couple who were stood right next to the jukebox, and vigorously rocking out to one of the songs that was playing. By now, she was wincing at how loud it was, but the others didn't seem so be fazed by it at all, miraculously. Maybe it would just take some getting used to.

As soon as the pair noticed them, they stopped dancing and hurried over. Because the lights only flashed on them occasionally, Scara couldn't see them very well yet, but that didn't become much of a problem as they all hopped down onto the train tracks and continued up the tunnel system. For a fair way, they continued, but nothing was said until the music was simply a distant echo, and they could speak without screaming themselves hoarse.

"So you're Scaramouche, huh?" asked the female. It was even darker now than before, so there was only voice to judge her by, and she sounded quite pleasant. "From what I could see back there, you're rocking that outfit, hen!"  
"Thanks, but- I'm really not," she mumbled, and quickly changed the subject before anyone could protest. "Are you Meat?"  
There was almost an energy radiating off her that implied that she was smiling. "You got it, honey! The one and only Meat Loaf, Queen of Bohemian Makeovers."  
"... I'm going to pretend I know what that means," the teenager said, and then turned her attention to the man. "So... who are you, then?"

"I," came the low, gruff rumble of a voice, "Am the biggest, baddest, meanest, nastiest, ugliest, most raging, rock-and-rolling, heavy metal psycho that ever lived. I am... Britney Spears."  
A soft swoon came from Meat, and Scaramouche made the conclusion that the two of them must have been a couple when the other female darted over to the taller, burlier silhouette and gave him a keen smooch on the cheek. It was sort of awkward to watch, even if there was very little light here right now, and so she focused on keeping an eye on Gaz, who was leading the way far in front.

"Here will do," came the latter's voice. Britney, being the huge man that he was, clambered off the tracks with ease and helped everybody else up after him; he practically swallowed up Scara's hand with his own and had yanked her a little bit too hard, but she hadn't dared spit anything rude at him in case he reacted negatively. What could she say? She was feisty, but she wasn't stupid.

Gaz moved over and switched on the lights here, too. Now she could see their new companions; Meat was only a little bit taller than herself, made more so by the high heels she was wearing, and was adorned with makeup, but not the GaGa kind. It actually made her face look that little bit more gorgeous, and something akin to jealousy bubbled up inside the smaller girl. Her outfit was complete with a corset, short shorts, fishnet stockings- again, Scara was envious, as she wished that she herself had that level of body confidence. That said, it probably wasn't hard for Meat. She had been blessed with nice boobs and a body that curved in all the right places, not to mention the face of an angel.

Before she grew too bitter about it, Scara turned to observe Britney instead. He was a huge man; dark-skinned, not extraordinarily tall, but bigger than everyone else present, and about twice as wide as herself. And she had thought that Gaz wearing eyeliner at all was strange, but this man's makeup took the cake. With an outfit adorned with bling, funky logos and torn edges, he looked to be a tough guy, someone you wouldn't want to cross. Judging by his attitude thus far, though, they were on agreeable terms, and he was a nice guy, especially in the presence of Meat, who he seemed to cuddle and kiss and treasure like a prince would his princess. It sort of made her wonder if she would ever end up with someone who would treat her like that. A large portion of her conscience doubted it.

"Sit down, babe!" encouraged Meat, wrapping an arm around her waist as she guided her to the rusting metal seats that sat beneath another sign, identical to the one from before except for the fact that this one read, 'HOLBORN'. "We have things to discuss."  
"Like what?" Scara asked, taking a seat. On either side of her were Meat and Gaz, with Britney on the other side of the latter.  
Gaz smiled. "Scara, where you are now? This is our home," he explained. "This is where the Bohemians live."

That made her frown. "What the bloody hell is a Bohemian?"  
Beside her, Meat laughed heartily. "Hen, we're the Bohemians!" she spoke cheerfully. "We're misfits. Rebels. We don't live by the rules of Globalsoft society."  
"You see, Scaramouche," Britney cut in, "We have a belief. A belief that, even though Globalsoft has eradicated everything and anything to do with freedom and independence, it will all come back. We'll overthrow Killer Queen and her henchmen, and real music will be reborn!"

"Alright," Scaramouche drawled, trying to wrap her head around that. "So what does this have to do with me?"  
Gaz placed a hand on our shoulder. "You're part of the prophecy, Scara. If what we believe is correct, you and I are going to liberate Planet Mall together."  
That wasn't something she had been expecting to hear. "What?! But- but- we're just a bunch of kids! Well- they're not," she corrected herself, motioning to the slightly older couple, "But we are! How are we going to save the entire world?"

"Scara, baby. Your friend here is the Dreamer." Proudly, as if Gaz were his own son, Britney clapped his hands onto the boy's shoulders, gripped firmly and grinned. Galileo seemed just as happy about this title.  
Scaramouche stared cluelessly. "And that means...?" Then it clicked. "Oh! You mean the words in his head?"  
"Exactly! You might think he's delusional, Scara, but he's in tune with the past," Meat breathed, awe having taken over her tone. "He can hear the voices of the Age of Rock speaking to him. He's the chosen one."  
"He's the most important man alive right now," Brit added, and Scara watched Gaz's smile slowly deteriorate into an expression of pressure-induced worry. "Along with you, he will save us all."

There was a pause before Galileo took her hands in his own. "Scara... I don't wanna scare you into anything, and it's not like we have to start rebelling right now. When the time comes, we'll know. But I don't think I can do this without you." His tone was serious, and he looked her dead in the eye, causing his words to pierce right into her soul, unlike anything else that had ever been spoken to her in her life. It made her blood drop temperature into the freezing territory, and her heart rate increased. "Please, Scara. I don't know what's in store for us. All I know is that we both need to do this. Together."

Her heart plummeted in dread at the thought of what she could be getting herself into right now. At the same time, something told her there was no getting out of this- the way they described this uprising made it sound like some sort of destiny, like she and Gaz had been born to do this. That was something that exhilirated her, in the strangest of ways.  
"Well... If this is what's going to give us freedom, then I'm in," she told them firmly. Behind her, she heard Meat cheer, while Brit grinned with a newfound fire in his eyes, and Galileo's lips turned upward slightly as he sighed with relief.

"Now that's over with, let's get back to the party! We have something to celebrate," Meat cheered. Taking Brit's hand and pulling him up, she and her boyfriend leapt down off the platform and darted into the tunnel from which they had just entered.  
"Thanks, Scara... I mean it." The Dreamer stood up and moved over to the power box for a second time, switching off the lights. With a buzz, everything went dark again, and he walked with her to jump off the platform and follow the train tracks again.  
"Ah, don't mention it, Gaz. You need me there. Not even just 'cos of the whole prophecy thing- you're just a liability." She playfully punched him in the arm, and he laughed nervously.

"So... You never told me you were the Great One or whatever." Scaramouche tried to make casual conversation as they moved into the pitch black tunnel. "How come?"  
"Oh, right. About that. Actually, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone else that I'm the Dreamer... The police are trying to track him down so that they can wipe his memories and make sure he can never bring back music. If Globalsoft find out I'm the one they're looking for, I'll end up brain dead in the Seven Seas of Rhye."  
"Of course I won't tell anyone. I'm not stupid. Besides, it'll suck balls if my only friend becomes a lifeless vegetable for the rest of his life."  
Another silence.

"Scara? When we get back, will you come and dance with me?"  
Scara hesitated. "Uh... I dunno, Gaz. I'm not a very good dancer."  
"So? Neither am I. Trust me, Scara, nobody cares about how well you dance. It's hard enough to see as it is. All we're doing is having fun. Besides... in a way, this is kind of like our own Spring Dance. With less GaGas, of course."  
Gradually, the music faded back in from the muffled echo it had been a little while ago. It seemed like the song had changed, but it didn't faze her either way- she didn't know any of this music, despite how much she was growing to like it.

When they reached Piccadilly Circus again, Gaz climbed up onto the platform once more, and helped Scara with him. From a table that had been haphazardly placed at an angle with one corner against the wall, he picked up a bottle of Heineken, some strange drink that she had never seen before. "Will you dance with me if I share this with you?" he asked teasingly as he waved the bottle in her face, then chuckled. "C'mon. Just have a laugh." He began leading her back to the pit of moving bodies below them.  
"It's you that will be having the laugh," she bit back under her breath, but reluctantly placed her bag down by the table leg and followed him back down onto the tracks.

Both of them wedged right in amongst the crowds, and Scara found herself standing rather awkwardly amongst a horde of dancing people. Gaz was tapping his foot and listening intently to the song, seeming to be trying to pick up the rhythm and pacing of the song. When he noticed his friend's discomfort, he sighed.  
"Look. Scara. Just let your body do whatever it wants. Look around you- everyone else is too preoccupied in what they're doing to give a damn about how you're dancing. Let yourself go."

He twisted the lid off his beer bottle and tossed it away somewhere, then lifted it as a toast. "To rock and roll," he proclaimed, taking a long gulp straight out of it before offering it to her. Just to revel in the thought that her parents' reaction to her drinking some alien, possibly alcoholic concoction, she accepted it and took a sip. Yep- this was beer. It was more bitter than the stuff sold in bars on the surface, and she liked it that way.  
Without warning, Gaz broke out into dance. If he had done so on his own and out of the blue, it would have looked ridiculous, but given the situation they were in, she didn't care that much. Seeing him looking so silly gave her the confidence to start swaying a bit herself.

Before either of them knew it, they were on their third shared pint of beer, and forcing their aching bodies to soldier on through yet another song. Sweat was beaded on Scara's forehead, and she found herself closer to Gaz than she had been before. Over time, they had been reunited with Brit and Meat, as well as a few more Bohemians that she didn't yet know; the whole lot of them were dancing in a circle within the congregation of Bohemians, and the teenage girl didn't think she had ever felt more alive than when she jumped around and sang with everybody, particularly with her oldest friend of a whole week.

Vibrations from the music pumped through her body with the blood, and amongst the exaltation of being part of something like this, her heart thundered in her chest. This was illegal, this was against the law, all of them would be arrested and possibly killed if they were found doing this, but that just made it all the more thrilling. It was possible that her ever so slightly drunken state was making it more so, but that didn't matter, either. Just being here, with all of these people who were just like her- for once, she felt like she belonged somewhere. And to think, after all these years of praying and wishing and hoping, they had been under her feet all along.

Scaramouche didn't come down from her high at all until the early hours of the morning, when the jukebox stopped, and Meat announced that tonight's party was over. Once again, Gaz offered to take her home, and she didn't pass up on the offer; she needed someone to share that buzz with. Hell, she was still in such high spirits that the thought of how much trouble she was going to be in when she got home didn't bother her in any way, shape or form whatsoever. After bidding goodbye to all her new friends, she followed Gaz back through the tunnels, over to where they had entered (which she discovered was named 'KINGS CROSS ST. PANCRAS'), back up the ladder, out of the drain and into the alleyway.

_"I'm a cowboy..."_ Gaz was singing under his breath, repeating one of the songs they and the other Bohemians had been dancing to before as he pushed the drain cover back into place. _"On a steel horse I ride..._ Hey, Scara. Did you have a good time tonight?"  
"Are you kidding me? It was fantastic, Gaz! Why didn't you tell me you were a-"  
"Shhh!" Gaz mouthed the word 'police' as he pointed to the street beyond, and Scara nodded. She had almost forgotten that they weren't in Bohemian territory anymore.

The pair of them walked out into the main street and avoided eye contact with the cops, playing it cool in the hopes that they wouldn't be regarded. Neither of them uttered a word until they reached an area where there was definitely no one around to hear them, at which point Gaz turned to her.  
_"We,"_ he spoke, putting emphasis on the word to communicate that he was referring to the Bohemians, "Throw parties like that a lot. You should come to more of them- I think they like you, Sca- Sally." The correction came when he noticed some Globalsoft officers emerge from around a corner.

Soon, the apartment building came into sight, and Scara didn't want to part with Gaz just yet. Still, she knew she would have to face her parents eventually; she might as well do it now, during the night, when the amount of noise and commotion they could cause was limited.  
"Thanks for inviting me tonight, Gaz." She smiled sincerely at him to communicate her appreciation, and she noticed the way his eyes lit up a little at the sight. "Really. I don't think I can thank you enough for..." She trailed off, not wanting to be sappy. "Nevermind."  
"No, no, go on. What were you going to say?"  
"Nothing. Night, Gaz." She waved as she headed back into the apartment buildings, leaving her friend outside.

The elevator ride up to her floor was an uncomfortable one. The tension in the air was so thick, it could be cut with a knife, and the dead silence didn't help. Scaramouche wasn't afraid of her parents, but she really didn't want to face them again. As of yet, she had never faced them when they were truly furious, so didn't know how well they were going to take her blatant disobedience, and after the incident that had not only gotten her kicked out of her sixth foster home, but damn near killed her, she didn't know if she wanted to find out.

When the ascension stopped and the doors opened before her, she took a deep breath, adjusted her bag on her shoulder, and walked back down the corridor. The clattering of her heels on tile boosted her confidence some, just as it did with her usual boots, and she did her best to grip onto that self-assurance when she reached the door to her apartment. Like earlier, she scanned her keycard to unlock it, and stepped inside, creeping just in case she could make it back to her room without being noticed and save the scolding until morning.

The first thing that surprised her was that the lights were still on. The second was the severe impact to the side of her face.

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Whew. Another long chapter... I really need to cut these things down._

_I had a few weeks' hiatus because I lost interest for a while and got really busy, but now I'll be back! When I'm not busy studying for exams and things, I'll do my best to write chapters and get this done. Don't worry, I'm still writing further than I'm uploading, so I'm on top of things._

_That's all I have to say, really. Thanks for reading!_

**_EDIT:_** _Response to guest review from Meg!_

_Thank you so much! I'm glad this is worthy of being a favourite, hehe. I have plenty more ideas in mind, so I hope you like those as much as you like the fanfic so far. Thanks again for the review, it's always appreciated!_


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